Let’s talk. Anyone else feel like the whispers start at your kid’s first birthday party? Y’all know the whispers.
“Oh! She isn’t a baby anymore. Time for a new one!”
WHAT?!? For the first time in a year, I can breathe. I can see a light at the end of the endless bottle cleaning. And you want me to WHAT?!? Mess that up?!? Start all over?! Set down the mimosa, friend. You. Have. Lost. It.
Fast forward to three. The toddler years. My little is a handful. BUT every day gets easier. She is potty trained. (Woot!) She can get her own apple from the fridge. (Woot!) She can let the dogs back in the house when they scratch at the door. (Woot! It’s the small things…) She is growing up. And every day is fun and full and exhausting. Naps are iffy. Bedtime is still sweet—most days. And our little family of three is content.
But, daily? I am questioned on our wants and thoughts about more. more. more.
Can I slow down and truly enjoy motherhood? I want to enjoy her independence. Enjoy my time away from her. Picking her up from school should be savored. “Making” dinners together is amazing — I want to revel in it! I have found myself, and an identity not solely consisting of being a mom. I am a wife, a mother, and a friend. Can I enjoy those moments without the constant pressure of the outside world to give her a sibling? Why is one child considered to be not enough?
I get it. The thoughts of “what if” regarding another baby occur to me too. We made a perfect child. One child. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a 50/50 balance of her father’s silliness and my wit. The only natural route would be making more little perfect minions.
But. Not. Now.
Now? We will enjoy our sleep. Enjoy relatively easy date nights. Enjoy lazy Saturdays where we can trade off alone time. Quite frankly, right now, we have it made. And that is perfectly perfect to us.